


Oh. No.

by figleaf



Category: SHINee
Genre: Drinking, Gore in that they need a cause of death, Horror in that ghosts are real, Humor, M/M, OT5 hunt ghosts, Slice of Life, Some at the expense of religion, Swearing, Too many dumb jokes, UST, With varying levels of enthusiasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21204764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figleaf/pseuds/figleaf
Summary: Jonghyun and Minho's bookshop attracts and unusual customer.





	Oh. No.

“You stupid piece of junk, just who do you think you are?”

Jonghyun growled under his breath, waving his screwdriver at the malfunctioning air-conditioning unit. He didn’t really know what he was going to do with it, but the unit didn’t need to know that, so long as it _felt_ appropriately threatened.

“I swear to Satan, I will go back out there and snap your shitty little wind flaps off one by one and melt them in the fiery pits of the inferno, whilst I laugh at y—”

_“Is everything alright back there?”_

“_Yeahhhh_ … Yeah, no.”

Minho poked his head through the stockroom door. “What’s wrong?”

Jonghyun frowned. “Air conditioning won’t turn off.” He replied, gesturing pathetically towards the damned thing in exasperation.

Minho arched an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just complaining that it was too stuffy when we opened up?”

“Sure. But it’s freezing now, aren’t you cold? I feel like my bollocks are about to turn into ice cubes and drop right off.”

“Er, thanks for the mental image?”

“Seriously though, what in hell’s name is up with it?”

Minho shrugged. “Call Jinki later and get him to take a look. But in the mean time…”

“Oh. Yeah, right, ‘course.” Jonghyun replied, setting down his screwdriver and dusting himself off as his colleague disappeared back out to the shop floor.

_“Hurry up, there might be customers waiting for us~”_

“Alright! Just comin— _FUck!_"

⎛☉☉⎞

Jonghyun and Minho had run their bookshop together for 3 years, and for 3 years they had been doing… just fine. They hadn’t yet become rich out of their joint enterprise, but they hadn’t become poor either. They’d survived comfortably off it, and more importantly, they were happy in their jobs (disobedient appliances aside). The shop itself wasn’t very big, and it wasn’t very grand. It didn’t really blend in with its bright, modern, minimalist neighbors in the mall, but they hadn’t wanted it to either. Choosing instead to decorate the place with dark wood and dark green upholstery that gave it that ‘book-y’ feel, an atmosphere of literary greatness and learning etcetera, etcetera. Which would, at least in theory, encourage people to invest in ink and paper and pricey hard-backs. In reality, a lot of their turnover came, not from the sale of books, or even from their selection of overpriced greetings cards and stationary, but from subletting part of the shop to a local café franchise. Originally Jonghyun had been skeptical about the idea putting up a wall and losing the floor space, but the proximity of complimentary coffee had quickly won him round to the idea, and the popularity of the adjoining café massively increased their footfall, so all was good in the end.

They divided the labor equally between them, but mainly according to what each wanted to do, and luckily their tastes barely overlapped. Minho looked after History, Sports, Biography, Childrens’ and doing the accounts. Jonghyun took Literary Fiction, YA, Self Help, Visual Novels, Arts and doing the cleaning. Their lunch breaks were covered by Jonghyun’s cousin Yeri, who came in from 1 until 3 on weekdays. And genres that neither of them fancied were curated by looking up the bestsellers’ list for that genre, and just picking the ones with the best covers. It all seemed to work perfectly smoothly, just so long as no one came in and asked for personal recommendations on something like spirituality, gardening, cookery, or the paranormal. Or asked Yeri for recommendations on anything at all, because then they’d probably get a much more personal opinion than they were prepared for.

⎛☉☉⎞

Jonghyun stormed into the front of the shop brandishing a book at his partner, one from the pile he’d unfortunately fallen over in his rush to exit the stockroom. “What were these doing on the floor?” he hissed.

“Dunno, I didn’t leave them there.” Minho said, casually kicking his feet up onto the shop counter.

“Why do we even have them anyway? You’re the only one who reads this trash.” Jjong eyed the cover with palpable disgust. He really didn’t like sports biographies, out of all books, they were the worst. The most self-aggrandizing, poorly written, least necessary. They were, of course, also Minho’s favorites. “What even is this one about? ‘Riding One Inch from Death: My Dangerous Love Affair with Skeleton Bob’ by Sam Hayne… Huh.” He paused. “…Well I guess at least they’re progressive.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t mean what you think; skeleton is sport, we got those in for the Winter Olympics display last year.”

“…Oh.”

“And it’s not trash.” he added, defensively.

“It’s fiction.” Jonghyun replied.

“So you’re saying fiction is trash now?” Minho asked, barely concealing the amusement in his voice.

“What? No!” Jonghyun waved the book again, as if shaking it somehow could make what he was saying more persuasive to his friend. “But this, this is _lies.”_

“And how do you know that exactly?”

“Because none of them never say anything negative about anyone, not the person they’re about, not people the person they’re about knows, not even anyone that everyone knows the person they’re about would like to see thrown off the side of a building if that was possible. Because the people of this country are obsessed with reputation and they’re all far too worried of being sued for libel to care about the truth—”

“—So I’m not the only person who reads them then. You’ve studied them in depth to find that out have you?”

“I…” Jonghyun panted, catching his breath.

“Mate, what’s gotten into you this morning?”

…Minho’s question was met only with inaudible grumbling.

“Oh I see, this is actually about you having to get the stool out to put them back up on the shelves isn’t it.”

“Fuck off, I can reach just fine.” Jonghyun snapped, before deflating slowly, sliding down into the chair next to Minho. “I’m sorry, I think I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. I feel really weird, like something’s just not right in the air, you know?”

“Maybe you’re coming down with something.” Minho shrugged, slapping Jjong’s thigh supportively and got up. “Don’t worry princess.” he smiled. “I’ll sort it, you watch the counter. Okay?”

“Thanks Ming.”

⎛☉☉⎞

An hour later and the air-con had miraculously started blowing the correct temperature (Minho had wisely said they probably just needed to be patient) and with it, Jonghyun’s mood had returned. (Further strengthening Minho’s theory that he was in fact a reptile, who, much like the air-con, also required time and gentle handling in the morning before reaching the optimum functioning temperature, especially now that they were heading for late October and the mornings were getting cold and dark.)

“Hey, look at this.” Jjong said, grinning as he threw one of the new shipment of manhwas on top of Minho’s morning paper. “That’s totally you.” He said, pointing to the doe-eyed male love-interest.

“The hair is off.” Minho sniffed.

Jonghyun ignored him, the hair was not off, it was maybe a shade lighter than Minho’s, but other than that, they were identical. And it wasn’t even _that _farfetched an idea, literally everyone in the area knew who Minho was, especially the young women. _Any_ one of them could’ve been a manhwa author, and if they were a local manwha author, then why _wouldn’t_ they visit the local bookshop with the ~unreasonably attractive~ owners. “Your fanclub is getting out of hand. We need to make you less bloody handsome…”

“Maybe he should start dressing more like you then.”

“Ugh Taemin! My savior.” Jonghyun bent backwards in his chair to greet the young man coming through the internal archway, bearing caffeinated drinks. “Wait, what!? What’s wrong with the way I dress?”

“Er… Nothing…” Taemin replied, setting down his tray on the counter. “He’s just a snappier dresser.” He said, gesticulating vaguely and Minho’s general ~ness. “Objectively speaking.”

“Snap-snappier?” Jjong spluttered. “How is this not ‘snappy’ enough for you?” He said, gesticulating vaguely at _his_ ~ness. His oversized sweatshirt and ripped jeans. “I look cool — but still friendly and approachable.” He added with a wink.

Taemin snorted. “The fact that you think that just proves that you don’t.” He replied. “Minho on the other hand, is wearing a proper shirt, a timeless and professional look, effortlessly sexy.”

“I look sexy too.”

Taemin laughed. “Yeah right.”

“How can you not see that?” Jjong whined. “Why are you so cruel. Minho, Ming, I look sexy right?”

Minho spent a frankly unnecessarily long time looking him up and down, just to wind him the maximum possible amount, before shrugging. “Jonghyun has fans too you know.”

Taemin ‘gasped’. “Really!? Wow, congratulations.”

“You don’t have to pretend to be surprised.” Jjong sighed at him, turning to Minho. “What fans?” He demanded. He needed to know if he had fans.

“Oh, you must have seen her around. Little girl, long hair, about 11, 12 years old maybe? Peeks at you from behind the island displays.”

“Great. Thanks mate.”

“Oh and look.” Said Minho, craning his neck to look out the front window. “Here comes your other one now.” He sniggered.

Jonghyhun followed his gaze to the smart suited figure stalking towards them from the other end of the hall with clear purpose. “Shittt— he’s not my fan.” The mall manager. The rent collector, tenant signer, security and maintenance coordinator, the events and publicity… whatever he actually did about that... The bloody mall manager. The bloody attractive, surprisingly funny, much nicer when he’d loosened up and got a few drinks in him and started acting like a human not a job description, mall manager. “…We just get on.”

“Yeah yeah, everyone witnessed just how well you two _get on_ at the leaseholders’ Chuseok party Jjong. But it’s time for me to split.” Said Taemin, looking worried. “I accidentally dropped cake on his lap the other day.”

“Frosting down?” Minho asked.

Taemin shook his head wearily, his expression haunted by the ghosts of countless cakes that had met similar ends at his tiny hands. “They always land frosting down.”

“Ah. Fair enough. Catch you later.”

Jonghyun turned to the stock room to make good his escape also — he was suddenly very sure that there was something he needed to do urgently in there. “I’ll be going too I think.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Minho reached out and grabbed him by the back of his hoody, stopping him in his tracks. “Since you ‘get on’ with him so well, you can be the one to talk to him.”

“Minho~”

“At least he likes you, and if he’s here for the rent you’re at least twice as likely as me to get him to give us an extension.”

Jonghyun had to concede that his partner had a point there. Minho seemed to be able to irritate Kim Kibum just by existing when he was in one of his moods, but… still… him liking Jonghyun a bit, maybe, _hopefully,_ probably wasn’t going to make him less of a hard-ass where it counted…

“So 2 in a million chance then. Fabulous.”

“Go get him tiger.”

The door swung open.

“Well you two look busy.”

“Morning Kibum.” Minho waved, heading straight to the back and thereby stealing Jjong’s exit plan.

Jonghyun shuffled his feet awkwardly, unwilling to look Kibum directly in the eye. They hadn’t really spoken one on one since the aforementioned Chuseok party, and the discovery that against all odds they really did, ahem,_ ‘get on’. _“Yeah, well, you know, calm before the storm that is the afternoon rush and all…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head.

Kibum sighed. “Are you going to make rent on time this month?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Well, hopefully. We’ve got this, um, this Halloween promotion running, scary stories and all that.” He indicated over towards a single stand covered in a few fake spider webs.

Kibum frowned at it.

“Not your kind of thing really?” Jjong chuckled nervously. “I was going to ask, but of course if you don’t fancy it, it’s fine, totally fine, but the cinema round the corner is doing a screening night—“

“Not really no.”

“Oh, well that’s that then.”

“It’s not that I don’t want t—“

“KIBUM! WATCH O—” Minho’s voice exploded from the end of the shop as a mass of books tumbled off the top shelf out of nowhere, knocking him to he floor before anyone could even move.

Jonghyun was over him in a flash, heart racing. Books could be really fucking hard.

He felt Minho arrive a second behind him.

“Holy shit. Is he bleeding?” Minho asked over his shoulder.

“Nope, doesn’t look like it.” Jonghyun replied, slapping his cheek lightly. “Kibum? Kibum can you hear me?”

_“Ughhh.”_ Kibum groaned, opening his eyes blearily.

“Try to focus on my finger.”

Kibum’s eyes focused, not on the finger, but on Jonghyun’s face. Some realization dawning on his features and he blushed a deep scarlet. “Shit! I’ve, I’ve got to go.” he blurted out, jumping to his feet. “Very urgent.”

“Kibum? Wait!” Jjong tried to grab him, but he was too fast, heading straight for the door. “You can’t run off like that.” He called. “What if you’ve got a concussion? …Kibum, I’m sorry~”

Minho tutted behind him. “What happened to you, I swear you used to be smooth?”

“I knowwww.” Jjong whined, standing up and dusting himself off.

“You think he’s alright?” Minho asked, as they walked over to the window together to see how far he’d gotten… Surprisingly far for someone that had suffered such an blow to the head not a minute before.

Jonghyhun grabbed his coffee mug. I was exactly the right temperature to drink. “I guess he ran off in a straight line, that might be a good sign?”

“I told you you needed to use the stool to stack high shelves.”

“I do not! …I could’ve sworn I pushed them all the way to the back this time.”

⎛☉☉⎞

“Aish, those kids have made a mess of the stationary again.” Jonghyun moaned as they were packing away. “Minho~ I told you we need to move this closer to the cash register.” He said, picking up the display and taking it across the shop to plonk it down on the counter in front of his partner. “Hey! Are you listening to me?”

“Yeah ‘course.” Minho said, eyes not leaving the end of day banking reports.

“And?” Jonghyun asked, tapping his foot in annoyance.

“I’ve never seen them do it.” He shrugged, getting up and shoving some papers into the filing cabinet before he turned to face Jjong. “Have you?”

“That’s not the point!” Jonghyun huffed, glaring up at him. “Point is, I’m bored of putting it back how it was at the end of _every _day.”

Minho sighed, swinging an arm around his friend. “I take it you’re still feeling stressed.”

“Hmph.” Jonghyun replied, leaning into Minho’s half hug as they walked together through the arch into the café as they usually did, every day.

“Hot chocolate with extra cream for Jjong please Tae, because he’s extra grumpy.”

Taemin looked up from wiping tables. “Try being me then hyung.”

“What’s up Tae?” Jonghyun asked as Taemin shuffled round the counter to make drinks, hoping to hear about someone else’s troubles for once.

“I get blamed for anything and everything that happens round here.”

“And?”

Taemin pouted “And I didn’t do it.”

“What didn’t you do this time then?” Minho asked, taking a seat on the obligatory café leather sofa.

“I don’t know, I didn’t knock down a shelf of new mugs, then I didn’t lose all of the boxes of straws, and then I definitely didn’t turn all of the steam wands round the other way so I’d scald all my hand on them.” He said, putting it up to show off the bandage

“Ouch.” They both winced in unison.

The door rung as someone came in. “Ouch what?”

“Oh hi Jinki.” Teamin beamed over the counter at the mall’s resident odd-job man. “How’s your day been? Mine’s have been painful.”

“Not nearly as bad as yours then.” Jinki smiled back, sitting down on the sofa with the others and trusting that Taemin would know his order (Black tea, 5 sugars, no milk) “How about you guys.”

“Our air conditioner is acting weird, could you have a look at it when you get a chance?” Minho asked.

“Sure.” Jinki nodded. “Like, how weird?”

“It just wouldn’t turn down this morning, then started working properly all by itself.” Minho shrugged. “Oh, and Jjong knocked Kibum out by stacking all the books to fall on his head.”

“I put them up there properly!”

“Interesting… Thanks Minnie” He said, accepting a mug from Taemin’s tray as the youngest sat down to join them. “Anything else unusual and slash or inexplicable happened recently?”

“Jinki, no.” Jonghyun warned, looking sideways at him. He could see exactly where this was heading already. Jinki had been hunting ghosts as for long as he’d worked there, so for as long as Jonghyun had known him. He was somewhat famous about the place for being inexplicably convinced that the mall was haunted. Generally it was seen as a harmless eccentricity… Except for that one time, when he’d accidentally talked about it to the fanatically religious health food shop owner downstairs, who’d taken him entirely too seriously, called a pastor round to read the spiritual energies, and then packed up and left. Kibum had been really mad about it, for all of five minutes, until he realized that he secretly liked Jinki a lot more than he liked the health food shop owner, and that she’d paid the next 3 months rent upfront and didn’t want it back, grateful, apparently, that Jinki had alerted her to the place’s demonic aura.

“What?” Jinki blinked back “It’s always important to consider _all_ possibilities.”

“What happened to the simplest explanation usually being the right one?” Minho asked.

“Easy. When you accept the truth that ghosts definitely exist, they become the simplest explanation.”

“I hate you.” Jonghyun said, glaring at him.

“~Please?”

Minho chuckled. “Jjong, it can’t hurt to hear what he has to say.”

Jonghyun grumbled a bit before conceding. “…Alright then, go on.”

“Ok. So the shop was really cold this morning.” Jinki said, rifling in his backpack for something to take notes on.

“But it was the air-con playing up.”

He tapped his pen on his bottom lip. “It is a well known fact that ghosts like to create draughts or make it cold. No one ever said that they couldn’t use the air conditioning to achieve that. Ghosts love tinkering with electronics.”

_“~Right_.”

“Has anything gone missing, or been moved around without either of you touching it?” Jinki asked.

Jonghyun thought about the stationary. “Yeah, but, the customers…”

“In the stockroom? Behind the counter in the cafe?”

“Well…” Jjong supposed he could have sworn earlier those books he’d tripped over in the morning hadn’t been there when he’d gone in.

“And things have fallen to he ground and broken without you doing anything?”

The grim looks on all of their faces did the talking for them.

“Just as I thought.” Jinki smirked, as much as any expression on his face could be said to be a smirk. “And have any of you been in a temporarily frustrated or irritable mood, bought on by nothing obvious?

“Ummm.” Jonghyun made a guilty noise, knowing full well that he’d been an ass all day, and if that could be blamed on spirits…

“Have any of you seen anyone around that doesn’t look _right_?”

“…Like how?” Replied Taemin. To be fair to him plenty of funny looking people did come in the café, if ‘not right’ was the only identifying criteria for ghosts, then that was just too broad.

Jinki tilted his head to the side. “Like someone who looks dazed or lost, who disappears when you turn away for a second, maybe wearing strange or damaged clothes, or an unaccompanied child?”

They were silent for a second, all trying to recall anyone _really_ unnerving, until suddenly Minho coughed. “…Jonghyun’s fan never has an adult with her.”

Jonghyun rounded on him. “But I’ve never even seen this girl you’re talking about.”

“You’ve never seen her?” Jinki shuffled forwards, clearly scenting paranormal potential.

“No.” Jonghyun replied, foolishly honest.

“But Minho has?”

“Yes.” Minho confirmed.

“Interesting... Does she happen wear a white night dress and float about 2inches off the ground?”

“No she just looks norm—“

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up a second.” Jonghyun interrupted. “This is crazy, she can’t be a ghost. I probably just haven’t noticed her, tons of children come in.”

“Or she is a ghost _and_ you haven’t noticed her.” Jinki said. “It’s not surprising really, Minho is far more perceptive than you after all.”

“Excuse me.” Jjong spluttered. How dare he, he was perfectly perceptive thank you very much. “Minho?” He asked, looking for confirmation that Jinki was indeed, well off the mark.

Minho, the traitor, only shrugged at him. “It is really weird that you haven’t seen her Jjong. She’s in almost every day. She waves at me.”

Jinki’s face split into the widest grin yet. “Looks like we’re having a stakeout boys! Taemin, you in?”

“Hell yeah!” Taemin fist pumped the air.

Jonghyun looked on in horror. The world had truly gone mad. “Yeah, well you can count me out.”

“No, no, no, not so fast Jjong.” Jinki said, putting his hands on Jonghyun’s shoulders. “You want this ghost problem sorted out, then you need to be here… As bait.”

“For the record, this is totally not what I meant when I said I wanted you to fix the air conditioning.”

⎛☉☉⎞

After much further cajoling, and a trip back home for dinner and a quick shower, Jonghyun turned up, back at the shop. He wasn’t really sure yet whether he thought that this was all just an elaborate joke at his expense, or that he was actually a little scared. What if Jinki really was right and the shop really was haunted, that was kind of… a big deal to say the least.

When he’d gotten there, at midnight, of course, Jinki had explained to his variably skeptical audience (ranging from the -ready to believe anything that sounded cool enough- Taemin, to the -there better not be a ghost because the implications of that are deeper than I want to deal with right now so I’ll just act like I think you’re crazy- Jjong. And Minho sitting on the fence, being determinedly open minded to anything that his friends felt strongly about out of sheer principle.) that ghosts were usually unsatisfied souls, and that seeing as this one wasn’t trying to kill them, it/she probably just wanted to get their attention so they could help it/her out. Therefore, the best way to get rid of it/her was to find out what it/she needed, and then do exactly that. Jjong had griped that it was probably a very stupid ghost if it was trying to get attention from the person who ~wasn’t perceptive enough~ to see it, until Minho reminded Jjong that she was probably just a little girl and she might be shy around him. Making him feel awful in the process, because the idea of a shy little girl being dead was really, really sad, and then oh shit how the fuck did she die, and did she want them to help to find her body or catch a murderer? Because that was also some scary shit.

On top of this, Jonghyun was not particularly comfortable about being in the spooky service corridors corridors, late at night, with all the lights off.

“Jonghyun stop quivering, you’re upsetting the instruments.” Taemin chided him.

“Minnie, ten minutes ago you didn’t know what that was, stop pretending like you’re an expert.” He snapped back.

“He’s right, stop quivering.” Said Jinki.

Jonghyun bristled. Jinki had announced earlier that although Jonghyun was not perceptive enough to see the ghost, he was sensitive enough to be affected by it’s negative energy. Jonghyun was willing to go along with that if it meant he could express his distaste for this whole stupid endeavour without anyone taking it too personally.

“So what does it do exactly?” Minho asked him, pointing towards the bleepy, flashy device Taemin was waving around obediently.

“It senses electro-magnetic disturbances.”

“Does that mean ghosts are magnetic?” Asked Taemin

“I don’t know.” Jinki shrugged. “But the Amazon seller said that if one is around, it’ll go ping.”

“Ooooo.”

Jonghyun couldn’t believe, for the thousandth time that day, what he’d let himself get dragged into. “I thought you knew what you were doing.” He hissed.

“It’s a developing field. Most of this is still highly theoretical.”

“Ugh, I hate this. It’s not like we’re even going to find anything.” Jonghyun moaned. The atmosphere in the service corridor was getting to him (he really was sensitive). The shop was connected to it by a door in the back of the stockroom, and he never even liked going out there to put out the bins, or to collect the deliveries. He didn’t understand exactly why they were there now anyway, seeing as the alleged ghost had always been seen _inside_ the shop if it really had been seen at all.

Minho’s ears pricked up as there was the telltale sound of footsteps pacing down the corridor ahead of them, echoing off the bare concrete walls. “Wait, what was that!?”

“Yesss, ghost time!” Taemin said gleefully. “… But Jinki, it’s not going ping?”

“Ghosts don’t usually have footsteps.” Jinki shook his head, sounding wary, not sure who, other than himself, would be in the corridors at this time or why.

Suddenly the lights snapped on without warning, and someone (Jonghyun) stifled a scream.

“What the hell are you losers up to!?” Kibum said, advancing on them round the bend in the corridor.

“Ghost hunting.” Chirped Taemin.

“I can’t believe you just told him that.” Jonghyun muttered, fighting a flush.

“Sorry, didn’t realize this was a secret ghost hunt.” Taemin apologized. “We certainly are not ghost hunting, mall-manager-nim.” He said, hiding the device behind his back and grinning because he knew that his denial was not in the least bit credible, and that he cared not in the least what Kibum caught them at — but Jonghyun _did._

Kibum rolled his eyes. “Why, in god’s name, are you _all_ ‘not’ looking for ghosts in the service corridor at 1am? How did he get to you?” He asked, pointing at Jinki, who looked even less guilty than Taemin, (if anything, he looked proud of having won people over to his cause.)

The lights flickered.

“Seemed like a good time?” Minho offered hopefully.

“_Right._”

“So tell us.” Jinki said, unintimidated by his colleague’s disapproval of their antics, and to be honest, thankful that it wasn’t security who’d shown up. “Kibum. Do you know of any deaths in the mall, particularly those of any little girls?

“About so high, pale, with long dark hair?” Added Minho.

“What the fuck? No!” Kibum replied, obviously thrown by the question. It was to be fair, a weird question. “Why do you thin—“

There was a rustle and the sound of cardboard sliding against itself.

“think that any thing like that could’ve happened? That’s horri—“

Another rustle, this time a little louder.

“Do we have rats back here?” Jonghyun asked, wrinkling his nose.

“We better not.” Kibum replied, eyes fixed on the end of the corridor where the sound was coming from, the blind corner he’d come around earlier.

Everyone jumped as a box in their corridor fell without warning. Then another, and another. Something was coming for them, and it was getting faster.

“EVERYONE, back in the shop!” Jinki screamed.

They ran for it.

Jonghyun reached the door and looked back, Kibum had frozen. “Fuck.” He muttered, lurching back to grab Kibum by the wrist and drag him back in, just as the bin behind him was forced over, it’s contents spilling after them, jumping at their heels. “Quick in here.” Jonghyun said, shoving Kibum into a locker and slamming the door behind them.

They were very close. Very, very close, pressed face to face, or more accurately, chin to shoulder, in the dark. Which in any other circumstances would have been nice but…

“Are we safe?” Kibum panted into his ear.

“I, I have no idea…”

_BANG_

“AHHHHHHH!” They both screamed in unison as something heavy hit the metal door behind Jonghyun’s back Clinging closer to one another.

_BANG - _Another item hit the locker with a deafening noise.

“Jjong!”

_BANG_

“We’re gonna die in here.”

“Don’t say that.” Jonghyun replied, burying his face right into Kibum’s nape.

_BANG_

“But, there’s a fucking ghost!?”

“I know!”

_BANG_

“Hold me.”

“I am!”

“Tighter!”

…

They braced themselves for the next hit.

…

_“UMOOOWAHHHH - UMMMOOOOOOWAHHHH - UMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOWAHHHHHH—”_

“What the hell is that?” Kibum whispered.

Jonghyun couldn’t answer him. “…Hang on, can you smell something… plant-y?” he asked a moment later, and an unusual smell reached his nostrils.

They both flinched as there was a knock at the door… A human knock.

“Jjong, Kibum? It’s ok, you can come out now… Unless you don’t want to of course.”

“No.” Jonghyun replied, hugging Kibum tighter to him. “I mean yes, no—”

There was an awkward sort of shuffle as the both of them tried to reconcile exactly what Jjong meant, with how ridiculously closely they were currently fitted together, with how close they both wanted to be to each other because they were _freaking traumatised by being attacked by a ghost_.

Jinki somehow seemed to sense this. “It’s perfectly safe out here for as long as I’m burning these herbs, they aren’t going to last for ever, but if you need five minutes to finish up or something...”

That did it. “Oh my god, if you set the fire detectors off with that you are in such deep shit Lee Jinki!” Kibum shouted, surging past Jonghyun, knocking them out of the locker into a heap on the floor. “You know how long it takes to clear the building after a false alarm!”

And just like that the fire alarm went off... followed by the sprinklers.

⎛☉☉⎞

Luckily the stock was mostly safe, protected by it’s wrappings, or their insurance, but that didn’t stop Minho and Jonghyun from bitching about Jinki as they mopped the water from the stockroom floor the next morning, for burning things indoors… and for coming up with the batshit idea of _looking_ for the ghost in the first place. They’d gotten in two, maybe three hours of sleep and Jonghyun’s ears were still ringing from the alarm, which never seemed to turn off even when it had.

“At least it worked Jjong, and you and Kibum didn’t die together in a metal box, battered to death by a book throwing spirit.”

After it was all over, they’d found that she’d been hurling dictionaries at them. Heavy dictionaries.

“Yeah, but a the cost of our sanity… Kibum probably has PTSD and is never going to want to talk to me, let alone touch me again, in case it triggers him.”

“Ah.” Minho said, ringing his mop out into the bucket and leaning on it. “So that’s it.”

“That is not even the beginning of it.” Jonghyun huffed in disbelief. “ I mean, how are you coping so gracefully with the whole ghosts are real and out to get us thing? Are you ok? Why aren’t you freaking out right now?”

Minho just shrugged. “I guess… I mean… It’s not that out of left field… Why are you catastrophizing?”

Jonghyun stared back at him in utter disbelief.

“Guys? Are you in there? I have coffee.”

“Oh thank god.” Minho muttered. “Yeah, thanks Taemin, just mind you don’t slip up on the— What’s _he_ doing with you?” Minho stopped, glaring at Jinki, who’d just come through in front.

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“Kibum?” Jonghyun turned round in surprise as Kibum followed the other two in, picking his way gingerly across the floor in his shiny shoes.

“It wasn’t. Jinki showed me how much smoke the herbs give off, and I agreed, it wasn’t nearly enough to set off our sprinklers. The ghost must have still been listening and set them off itself.”

“Herself.” Minho corrected him.

“Whatever, the point is… you need to get rid of her.” He said, betraying a slight tremor he’d been suppressing in his voice.

Jonghyun spluttered. “Why us?”

“Because she’s obviously fixated on either your shop or on _you_.” Kibum said, looking pointedly at Jjong. “And I’m really sorry but, if you don’t get rid of her, I’m going to have to evict you.”

“Kibum what the hell?”

“Do you think I have another choice?”

“Er… No, maybe not. Fair enough.” Jonghyun complied, defeated by Kibum’s strained expression. He supposed being the mall’s manager probably did cover keeping the place free from hauntings at all costs, whether you were personally terrorized by them or not.

“…But can’t you like, call in a priest to do an exorcism or something?” Taemin interjected.

Jinki looked horrified. “That’s inhumane.”

“She’s not technically— ’K. Maybe not then.” He said, backing off and holding up his hands at Jinki’s glare.

“Minho.” Kibum said. “Tell us everything you’ve noticed about this girl you’ve been seeing. Let’s run through everything we’ve got on her.”

“So you’re helping then?” Taemin asked. “When you said, ‘you’, you meant ‘us’?”

Kibum narrowed his eyes. “I’ve got to get rid of her whether those two get evicted in the end or not. But we might as well get it over with as quickly as possible and with the least amount of paperwork, so if you please…”

“Okay.” Minho announced, breaking up the tense atmosphere. “Well, I’ve just seen her peeking at Jjong, like she’s trying to get close to him, but he never notices her and when I look again she’s disappeared. And then things started going weird like, she’s maybe messed with the heating and moved things around, but nothing dangerous happened until she tipped those books onto Kibum yesterday.”

“That was her?” Kibum asked, voice shaking a little despite his together expression.

Minho shrugged. “Not really any other explanation.

“Told you ghosts were the simplest explanation.” Jinki grumbled, only to be ignored unanimously. If anyone gathered had learnt anything in the last day, except the absolute bomb that ghosts were real, it was that they also weren’t simple. They were obviously not simple. They broke all known scientific laws of the universe, were a metaphysical nightmare, and apparently they were deeply emotionally unstable to boot.

“And then she chased us and threw dictionaries at me and you yesterday, and that’s all we’ve got.” Jjong finished.

Jinki scratched his chin. “You know, she only came into the corridor last night after Kibum did, and from the same direction… What if it’s actually Kibum she’s haunting.”

“But Jonghyun was in that cupboard too, and she does hang around him, and likes him.” Said Taemin.

“We don’t know she likes him. She threw dictionaries at him.”

“I really got the impression that she did though.” Minho said.

Kibum looked distraught. “But she hates me? What have I done?”

“She’s a child. She probably just doesn’t like the look of you.” Said Jinki, in a tone that was clearly meant to be comforting, but somewhat missed the mark. Having ghosts want to hurt you for no particular reason other than they just _did_, didn’t sound comforting at all.

“But children love me!” Kibum protested.

The lights flicked and Kibum flinched.

Jinki raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Kibum looked like he was ready to be sick. He was white as sheet, ready for the ghost to make herself known at any minute, even though Jinki had assured him before coming over, repeatedly and emphatically, that she was highly unlikely to be able to fully manifest during daylight hours.

“Have you said anything harsh or unkind to Jonghyun in the shop?... Or to anyone, anywhere in the mall, seeing as we don’t know whether she’s following you around or not.”

“Not… not outrageously.”

Taemin cleared his throat. “Maybe she’s figured out that Jonghyun has a mad crush on you and she’s jealous?” Everyone pretended not to have heard him because it was less awkward that way.

Minho stood up suddenly. “We should talk to her”

“Talk to her, she’s crazy!” Cried Jonghyun.

“You should talk to her” Jinki agreed.

“No!”

“Jjong. She’s just a child. A lost child. And you probably shouldn’t call her crazy when she might hear.”

“Ok, I’m sorry, but…” Jonghyun looked desperately to Kibum for help. “Kibum?” He should understand why that sounded like a terrible idea, surely?

Kibum blinked slowly, thinking. “If she trusts you.” He said, carefully weighing his words. “Then I think you should at least try.”

⎛☉☉⎞

And so it was decided. _Both_ Jonghyun and Minho would try to communicate with the ghost to find out what she wanted. And for the safety of everyone involved, they would do it as soon as the shop had closed for the night, when, according to Jinki, she would be less powerful than she had been after midnight. Jinki had also done some additional ‘research’ on the internet, and crowd-sourced a design for some kind of summoning circle, made up of the sort of things they thought the ghost might like, like picture books, pencil cases, some YA because Jjong was concerned that she might be an advanced reader and didn’t want to risk patronizing her…

And they sat waiting in it; the others peeking nervously through the café arch a cautious distance away with baited breath.

Just as they were giving up hope of it working, a cold breeze blew across them, raising the hairs on the backs of their necks. Jjong blinked and suddenly there she was, sitting silently across the circle from them on the floor, looking as real as any other girl, her long hair, fanning out around her on the ground.

“Um… Hello there.” He said, forcing his mouth into a smile. It felt like it might be a good idea to smile. She was so little. Fragile looking.

“Hi” Minho waved.

She lifted her hand to wave back at them and Jjong realized with a punch to his gut that he could see dark blood stains covering it. In fact the whole of her left side was covered in deep red marks. How could Minho not have noticed before?

He swallowed. “I’m Jonghyun and this is Minho, but you probably know that already.”

She nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on them, but not in a way that was threatening, just watching them, warily.

“Err… Why are you here?”

She reached out, carefully picking up one of the books next to her with great concentration, clearly struggling to lift it. Jjong realised that Jinki’s theory about her being less powerful the further from midnight they were must have been correct. She turned the pages one by one until she settled on an illustration.

Minho and Jjong stared at it. It was quite obvious really.

“You’ve lost your family?” Minho asked.

She nodded, pointing to one of the figures.

“Your dad?”

She nodded again, meeting Minho’s eyes. Jonghyun could see him trying not to flinch away from the dead gaze. To show he cared.

“And you’re looking for him?”

She nodded.

“Do you want us to help?” Jonghyun said cautiously, still half hoping that the answer would be no, because where would they begin with that? They didn’t need to have the bookshop here. Kibum could evict them. They could take their stock and move to another premises. No problem.

The ghost broke eye contact with Minho and shrugged.

“How long have you been lost for?” Jjong asked.

She shrugged again, looking down.

Minho thought carefully about his next question. “Did you just think the bookshop was a nice place to stay after searching for so long, or are you here for a particular reason?”

Again, a shrug.

He chuckled. “Do you like Jonghyun?”

_“Minho!” _Jjong said, slapping him lightly. Ghosts were not there to be teased.

She hid her face. If ghosts could have blushed, she obviously would have been bright pink.

“Sorry” Minho said, still chuckling a little. Of course he thought the ghost was cute. Jonghyun supposed she was cute… when not throwing things. “…Would you like it if we tried to help you find your father?”

She nodded shyly, peeking above her fingers to look at them both.

“If we promise to help, can you promise to stop moving things around and playing with the electronics?” Jonghyun asked gently.

She nodded and smiled, sitting up properly again, clearly happy to be offered a deal.

“Could you maybe also stop attacking Kibum?”

Her demeanour suddenly she changed, frowning and shaking her head, disappearing in an instant.

Oh.

Shit.

⎛☉☉⎞

“Well, what do we do now?” Jonghyun slurred. The five of them had all decamped to a nearby noraebang to sing out their troubles and talk things over, judging, quite sensibly, that staying in the shop for much longer might be a bad idea. Predictably Kibum had been first out the door. No one blamed him.

“I guess we find her father?” Minho sighed.

Taemin laid his head in his arms on the tabletop “But… how are we supposed to do that? She couldn’t even tell you when she died.”

Minho groaned. “I don’t know.”

“Kibum.” Jjong asked. “Are you _sure_ that a child has never died in the mall.”

Kibum pinched the bridge of his nose. The beer was making his brain feel fizzy. “For the last time, yes, I am completely sure.”

“Because if they had, that would really explain why she didn’t like you.”

“I don’t know why you keep trying to imply that I know something asshole. What if she really is jealous of your crush on me?”

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Don’t piss me off any more by denying it.” Kibum warned him, jabbing his bottle threateningly in his direction.

“You know.” Taemin burbled. “I reckon she’s too young to be properly jealous. I think she just recognises that Kibum is luring you into sin and is trying to protect _your_ immortal soul.”

“Don’t talk rubbish dear” said Jinki, patting him clumsily on the head.

“Where are you when people accuse me of that then?”

Jonghyun ignored them and continued stumbling blindly along his train of thought. “Well it’s just, I’d understand if the mall didn’t want to make something like that public or…”

“Or what, that I wouldn’t want to make it public if I killed her? Is that where we’re going with this?”

“Tha— That’s not what I’m saying at all!” Jonghyun shook his head blearily. It didn’t make it feel any clearer. “I’d never think you were a murderer.”

“Well what are you trying to say then?! When I say I DON’T KNOW. I mean I DON’T KNOW.”

“Bum calm down.” Said Minho, trying to get Kibum to sit back down before he injured himself.

“How I supposed to be calm down!?” Kibum struggled out of his grip. “You just talked to a ghost. Now he’s” He said, pointing at Jonghyun but actually more pointing at man in the MV playing on the projector. “He’s accusing me of covering up a_ murder_! A _child murderer!_ I’ve had it! Officially.” He stamped his foot, swaying as he went to the door. “I’m going to bed. Fuck you all and fuck ghosts.” He said, flipping the bird at them as he went.

“Wait! That’s not what I—“ Jonghyun said, entirely too late.

“Smooth moves Jjong.” Jinki whistled.

“UGHH Kill me now, at least do it before my hangover kicks in. What are we doing here?”

“So you can haunt the shop too?” Minho said, patting him on the back. “No thanks.”

“Ha. ha.”

“He’ll calm down.”

“He’s got a point.” Taemin mused. “He’s just been confronted with the metaphysical reality of life after death, and on top of having to process that, there’s a spirit on the lose that apparently hates him and is actively trying to hurt him, and that a child might have died or worse, been murdered in a property which he is responsible for.”

“And you just accused him of being a Jezebel who’s soul will be damned eternally.” Minho added.

Taemin nodded sagely. “All those things are true though, so that’s probably been a rough two days for him.”

“Hmph.” Said Jonghyun.

“Jinki, don’t you agree?...”

Jinki stared off into space. “It’s just hit me. You talked to a ghost.” He mumbled. “She was really, really right there. A ghost.”

“Jinks, are you alright?”

“I… I didn’t film anything.”

⎛☉☉⎞

Kibum glanced at his watch, fuck, it was almost 5:00am. He had to be back at work by 7:00. It really wasn’t worth going home was it? He’d barely be there half an hour before he had to leave again. (for what it mattered, it was actually only 2:00am, but he was in no state to read the display properly.) Damn it, he’d have to just try and catch a nap in his office. But… nah, Jinki said the ghost was less powerful the further away from midnight it was. She could show up and gurn at him all she wanted, he was past caring. He was so _tired_. Why had he let them lead him so far astray? Why had Jonghyun been such an ass. He muttered to himself as he stomped down the corridor to his office in the basement, wet feet sliding on the grey lino. Stupid ghosts, stupid Jonghyun, stupid mall, stupid everyone, and stupid him for getting so drunk.

The lights flickered.

Oh no. That was just the filament going surely? A power surge? Please?

He gulped as a cold breeze snaked it’s way between his ankles.

The lights flickered again.

Then went out.

Kibum lit up his phone.

⎛☉☉⎞

A few hours later and Jinki was running down the corridor towards the crumpled, soggy heap on the floor. “Oh Jesus Christ Kibum.” He said, dragging him onto his front and checking for damage. “Are you ok? Please be ok.”

“Jinki?” Kibum rasped, blinking up at him. “Eugh, fuck that hurts. No, don’t—“

Jinki ignored his hungover whinging and sat him up against the wall anyway.

“What happened to you?” He asked, handing him his water bottle out of his backpack. “Have you been here since leaving the bar?”

“I— I… _OH_” Kibum began to quiver like a leaf, whether from alcohol poisoning or fear Jinki didn’t know, but he correctly guessed that he needed a hug. Pronto.

“Shit.” Kibum muttered into his collar. “Jinki I think I know what happened to her.”

“Really?”

“I saw…”

⎛☉☉⎞

“Ok,” Kibum, painkillered up to the nines, said the four gathered in the bookshop before opening, looking like death and like he was ready to deal out death. “So before I say anything, I’d like to make it clear that the only reason why I am helping you, is that hauntings are terrible for business and I can’t let the mall get that kind of reputation. And I totally do not care personally whether your stupid shop specifically is haunted, nor whether or not you think I’m complicit in murdering children.” He finished, pointedly.

“I never said—“

Minho clapped a hand firmly over Jonghyun’s mouth. “We understand perfectly. Please go on.”

⎛☉☉⎞

After the shop closed Minho and Jonghyun arranged the summoning circle again as per Kibum’s instruction. Again, the other 3 were hiding round the corner, just out of sight in the café. Kibum was there too, not because he was helping of course, but because he needed to see the job done properly so he could rest in peace that night, never mind the stupid ghost.

Jonghyun closed his eyes and took a deep breath, when he opened them again, she had appeared, sitting silently and innocently, cross legged on the other side of the circle, her hair fanning around her once again.

“Hello.” Minho greeted her. “We think we’ve found your dad, can we take you to him…?”

They each took one of her hands in theirs’ as they led her down to the basement. She felt, there and not there at the same time, as if she were made of spun sugar, like if they gripped her too tightly her structure might collapse into nothing. She was light as a feather, and cold without being truly cold, like how mint feels cold in your breath.

“It’s ok, not far now.” Jonghyun said, as they reached the long, grim corridor Kibum’s unglamorous subterranean office was in.

The lights flickered, and the little girl flinched too.

It dawned on him that there was a shadow at the end of the corridor, gathering form and substance to itself. Watching rapt with horror and trepidation as it slowly formed itself from darkness into the shape of a man, and Jonghyun really fucking hoped that Kibum was right about this… But Kibum had been alright the night before… Well he’d passed out but…

So the man now had a form, Jonghyun squinted, he had a uniform, a _Japanese_ uniform, oh.

He had no face.

Like not a blank space, he clearly had had a face once, but… whatever had killed him had… Jonghyun could feel the bile rising in his throat and he could feel the little girl tugging on their arms, looking up at them in fear, pleading with them to run away.

“It’s ok… I think…”

_“Yoko.” _ The spirit said. How he said it Jonghyun didn’t know, but he could _feel_ the name resonating in the air. ”_Yoko?_””

Yoko heard it too. She dropped their hands.

The spirit at the end of the corridor fell to his knees, opening his arms for her to run into. And she went. First at a walk, then running faster and faster towards him to be swept up into his embrace, they spun, engulfed by light, and then, then suddenly they were just gone.

“Wow.”

“Yep.” Echoed Minho. “Wow.”

“She didn’t even say thank you.” Taemin spoke from behind them, making them jump out of their skins.

“Don’t do that you bastards.” Minho wheezed, clutching his chest.

“Sorry.”

⎛☉☉⎞

Back safely up in the café, the five sipped Irish coffees of varying strengths, made with a very necessary bottle bought from Kibum’s office.

“So she’d been looking for him all that time?” Jonghyun said.

“I don’t know how spirits experience time, but yeah, I guess.” Replied Minho.

“No wonder she was a little… you know…” Taemin made a motion that was clearly supposed to indicate psycho.

“We never even found out why she hated Kibum so much.”

“I’m fine with not knowing.” Kibum huffed into his drink. “Now that it’s over, I never want to think about it ever again.”

“You did well though Kibum!”

“At what? Not shitting himself?” Said Taemin.

“Yah!” Kibum exclaimed, making a swipe for him and missing

“Sorry mall-manager-nim.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Taemin grinned.

“Ugh. It’s a pity I can’t fire you.”

“Really though, thank you for helping…” Said Jonghyun. “And sorry I ever doubted you— not that I did.”

“Don’t worry about it… I guess I do get where you’re coming from. And I guess she did die here, just a long time before there was ever a mall.” Kibum grumbled, a small smile raising a the corner of his lips. “ And I told you earlier.” He said, realising he’d let the smile slip out and composing himself. “I just wanted them gone, and you and the others did all the hard work, I just got ambushed… Several times.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you tear up a little when she ran into his arms!” Hummed Minho.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“I was just affected by all the… ghost spores in the air.” Kibum blustered.

Jinki perked up instantly at that, reaching for his notebook. “Really? Could you describe your symptoms?”

“Quiet you.”

And if, as they laughed together in relieved that it was all over, Kibum snuck his hand onto Jonghyun’s thigh, then no one said anything about it, because they’d had a hard day, and there’s be plenty of time to tease him about it tomorrow.

\- End-


End file.
